The Other End of the Leash Read online

  I read the note twice. I’d been with many women who called themselves masochists. Most weren’t, but a few were. I already knew that Raven was an excellent submissive. Was she a true masochist? I guess we’d find out soon.

  I chose a large glass dildo. I wanted to fuck her again, but I also wanted to make her beg for it. I picked up a pair of nipple clamps, spring loaded with weights. I grabbed her cuffs, but left the floggers. I’d use some on her, but I had my own, and I preferred to use them.

  I walked to her room and stood in the doorway. She was laying on her stomach on the carpet reading a magazine. Her knees were bent, feet swinging slightly back and forth. She looked a bit childlike there and it made me question, for a moment, the items I had in my hands.

  She hadn’t noticed me yet, so I continued to observe her. She turned the page and a small sigh came from her. I wondered what she was reading. As innocently as she looked, I could have imagined it a People’s magazine, but when I stepped into the room and looked over her shoulder I saw hardcore BDSM photos covering the pages.

  She looked up at me and smiled. Her eyes darted to the items in my hand. I thought she’d be afraid, but her smile widened and my cock hardened.

  “Raven, I’m going to use you now.”

  It was like a switch. She quickly flipped the magazine closed and put it in her bag, cleaning up after herself. She moved toward the doorway and stood there, feet apart, head slightly bent down, her eyes on the floor.

  I took the leash from my pocket and clipped it to the collar around her neck. I planned on using it in our scene too. I led her into the hall and down the stairs. She followed me through the house and to the door in the kitchen that led to the basement. Her eyes widened when she realized it was a basement. Her hand reached around to touch her tail and she seemed to relax some, but I saw her trembling.

  I stopped. “Raven, are you scared?”

  She hesitated then nodded.

  Well shit. It looked like we weren’t going to play. I was disappointed, but I was no rapist. I wasn’t going to force myself on a woman. “Raven, do you not want me to use you?”

  She looked at me confused.

  I realized I’d used a double negative and my question would be hard to answer in yes or no form. I asked again, “Raven, do you want me to use you?”

  She nodded.

  “Raven, my playroom is down there. It’s where I want to use you. Seth trusted me, and you can too.”

  Though I could tell she was anxious, she followed me down the stairs. At the bottom, she seemed a bit more relieved. I’d finished the basement when I bought the house. I’d wanted a dungeon, but I didn’t need all the space, and I wanted a cozier feel, so I made a half bath and a game room. I had a leather couch against the far wall and a poker table in the center of the room. I hosted Tuesday night poker with some friends.

  I continued toward my dungeon without speaking. When I opened the door, rather than looking nervous like some of the submissives I’d brought here did when seeing all of the metal and leather, she looked relieved.

  I brought her to the center of the room there was an open space. “Kneel,” I commanded.

  She dropped to her knees and looked down at the floor. I circled her, inspecting her perfect form.

  “You know your safe word?” I asked.

  She nodded her head once. Sometimes with other submissives I would go into more detail, explaining that I would only stop if they use their safe word know matter how much they begged and screamed. Raven didn’t need that though, she was immersed in the lifestyle.

  I left her there for a moment while I went to set up the tools that I would use. I put the clamps on small rolling cart along with five floggers. I thought we’d start out light, and work our way up to more intense sessions as the week went on.

  When I was finished, I pulled on her leash until she was standing. I led her to the cross in the corner of the room. Using her cuffs, I clipped her in, so she was facing me. Her body was toned and her skin begging to be marked. I leaned in and unclipped the collar, putting it in my pocket. I kissed her neck and down her shoulder. My mouth explored her skin. I let my tongue drag up her body, starting at her rib cage over her nipple. I pulled back a moment and she exhaled softly. I paused an additional moment then let my mouth attack. I sucked and licked, nipped and tugged on her right breast and nipple, always slowly, always deliberately. My hand played with her left, pinching and squeezing. Her breathing was ragged and her body made whimpers and moans when I got more forceful.

  Finally pulling back, I’d admire my work. My hand had made her left breast pink, but my mouth had made her right breast a work of art. There were pink spots from where I’d sucked and red spots from where I’d sucked really hard. I saw some impressions from my teeth and one spot, that was purple that I knew would stay.

  Raven’s eyes were closed, and that was fine. I rarely required my submissives to look at me. She looked peaceful, despite the marks on her breasts. Her breathing had evened out once I’d stopped and I might have thought what I did had no effect on her, weren’t it for the scent in the air. I was certain if I parted her legs, her inner thighs would be shiny and wet. That thought made me smile as I reached to my cart and picked up one of my floggers. It was a light one, made of elk. The falls were soft and wouldn’t mark skin.

  I began moving my arm in a figure eight motion, striking her chest on both the up and down swing. The sound of the leather slapping skin filled the room, and the steady rhythm of it, had Raven’s breathing relaxed again. It was a good way to start a session.

  As her chest and the front of her thighs became pink, I switched floggers to one with heavier falls. To a BDSM novice, all flogges might look the same, but to an experienced Dom or experienced submissive, they are not. The number of falls, strips of leather attached to the handle, determines half of what makes a flogger thuddy or stingy. If there are many falls, say 30 or more, the flogger will be thuddy, particularly if the falls are cut wide. Each swing of the flogger will bring the leather into contact with the skin with a thud. I’d equate it to hitting someone with a pillow or even a thick book.

  On the other hand, if there are only a few falls, or the leather is cut into thin strips, it gives a stinging sensation. I’d describe that like being hit with an electrical cord or a swinging rope. The material a flogger is made out of is equally important. Soft suede versus hard leather or plastic makes a huge difference in the sensation as well.

  I continued with my second and third flogger. Her entire body was pink, with a few darker lines now showing up from the third flogger. She’d yet to open her eyes and she’d only made soft sounds, whimpers and moans. None of that was unusual. Unlike some silly books I’d read, most submissives didn’t count when being flogged because they would receive hundreds or thousands of strikes before the session was over. It was the rhythm and repeated motion that put submissives into sub space. Counting usually delayed that.

  I was about fifteen minutes into the scene and I paused to check her over. Her front was a perfect shade of pink, her wrists were fine in the cuffs, still above her head. Her body was positioned like a Y. Her arms over her head, spread apart attached to the X shaped piece of wood, but her legs were still together, knees touching. I had cuffs for her ankles, though I rarely used those on the cross. I’d see if she could follow command in this state.

  “Raven, spread your legs.”

  There was no hesitation. She spread her legs shoulder width apart.

  “More,” I commanded, pushing her thighs apart with the handle of my flogger.

  She complied.

  I began flogging her again. I’d occasionally bring the flogger up between her legs and hit her pussy, though not with as much force as I was flogging her breasts.

  When I’d moved to the fourth flogger, she was moaning with nearly every strike. Her body was going from pink to red, and there were some darker lines. I slowed my pace, but I brought my arm down with more force. Each impact moved her body, swaying
her on her feet. The cuffs around her wrists keeping her from losing her balance.

  It wasn’t until she was moaning and covered with a sheen of sweat that I picked up the fifth flogger. I rarely made it to this one, and I’d never used it on the front of a woman before. Not holding back, I brought it down on her pink flesh. She cried out, as the red lines appeared, angry and bright across her abdomen. I let her catch her breath, then brought it down again twice in quick succession, one on each breast. While the lines appeared there, my eyes were focused on her pussy, which was now glistening in the light of my playroom.

  I set down the flogger on the cart and moved so that our bodies were less than an inch apart. Cupping her sex with my right hand, I leaned in and growled in her ear, “You’re so wet for me.”

  She whimpered in response. I allowed her to feel my fingers for a moment, parting her lips, stroking her clit before moving my hand away. She tried to move with me, but her wrists kept her in place.

  Grabbing the nipple clamps, I turned around to face her. Her eyes were closed, her breathing evening out. I didn’t want to give her a chance to come down from her rush. Her nipples were still taut, protruding from her body, pointing straight at me.

  Pinching one with my left hand, I slipped the clamp on with my right. The sharp intake of air as I clipped one onto her nipple let me know they were set correctly. I didn’t adjust them, simply attached the left one. I could see her lips pressed together. I was aware that the first few minutes of nipple clamps were painful, though when they were removed was often more painful.

  I drew my focus from her breasts to the rest of her body. It was well flogged and I was ready for a new canvas. Pressing my body fully against her, I reached up and with a gentle tug of the quick release clasp, I released first one, then the other wrist cuff from the cross. She held her hands up until I lowered them slowly.

  I waited for the blood to flow for just a moment, then turned her to face the cross and raised them again. With a click of metal on metal, she was once again bound to the cross, this time facing away from me. Her back was beautiful, a fresh palate and her ass was divine. And right between her two firm cheeks was her tail. The soft fur hung down between her legs.

  It wasn’t long before both her back and ass were pink, and then criss crossed with red lines. With each swing of my arm, the flogger hit her back, making her moan, and making my cock harder and harder.

  After ten minutes of nonstop flogging, I set the flogger down. Stepping out of my clothes and moved behind her. Standing only an inch from her, I raked my hands down her back, making nail marks over her raw flesh. When I reached her ass, I gave her tail a gentle tug, then pushed it to the side. Lining myself up with her entrance, I reached around to her front, grabbing hold of her hips, and drove myself inside of her.

  With each thrust, I drove in deeper and deeper. My hands moved up her abdomen to her breasts, pinching and squeezing all the way. Thrusting harder and faster, her head fell back and to the side. My mouth moved to her neck, and while I tugged on the nipple clamps, I made bite marks from just behind her ear all the way down her neck and to her shoulder. They would fade within the hour, but it had her panting and moaning, rocking back on my cock.

  Her pussy was so wet as she fucked me back. I didn’t ease up on her nipples, pinching the tips that were sticking out past the clamps. She screamed, but rather than pulling away, pushed back onto me more. Her pussy was pulsing. “You wanna come Raven? Come all over my cock.”

  I continued to pound into her, even as I felt her pussy clench around mine. Her breathing was labored, yet I didn’t let up. Her sounds grew louder as she came and they remained that way as I continued to fuck her.

  I loved the way her screams echoed off the walls. They combined with the sound of skin slapping against skin. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d fucked a woman this hard, and she was taking it all. It felt good, and I pushed my orgasm back a few times so I could enjoy her longer, but in the end, I needed to come.

  While her back was exquisite, I wanted to see her face, her tits when I came. I thrust a few final times into her pussy until I was moments away from my orgasm. Then reaching up, I released her left hand and spun her around. Her right hand was still attached to the cross.

  I yanked the nipple clamps from her body, then slammed three fingers into her pussy while simultaneously stroking my own cock.

  She screamed out, her knees going weak as she hit another orgasm. This one was far more intense. Not only could I feel her pussy sucking my fingers, but she began to squirt all over the floor.

  I slapped at her pussy while stroking my pulsing cock. I grunted as I came. Streams of white cum flew from my cock lanimg on her tits and stomach. She was a true work of art. Pink and white lines covering her.

  I admired her for a full minute before releasing her right wrist. She swayed on her feet and I had to smirk a bit at having put her in that state. I moved her to the massage table pushed against one wall. “Rest,” I commanded.

  She climbed onto the bench and she lay there, face up, but with her eyes closed.

  I picked up my floggers, sprayed them down with leather cleaner and conditioner, then put them back. I wiped down her clamps and cuffs then returned to where she lay. There was still quite a mess on the floor, and my cum was melting on her body, running in little streams, here and there, her belly button now full of clear liquid.

  I leaned over her. “Raven.” Her eyes opened. “Can you walk?”

  She nodded. “Then clean up the playroom floor where you made a mess. You came, and without permission.”

  Her eyes went wide. There were many submissives I had where they came whenever they wanted to, but I knew Raven liked pain and I liked to punish. It was as good of a reason as any.

  She sat up slowly.

  “Take your time. And when you are finished, I want you upstairs in the bathtub. I might want to use you again tonight, and I can’t fuck you all covered in my cum.”

  Raven nodded and took the rag that I’d been using from the rolling cart.

  I left the room and waited in the other room. When she came out, I followed her up the stairs to the main floor and up the stairs again to my bedroom.

  I started to run the tub while she stood next to it waiting. She was so beautiful, flushed and covered in my cum, that I wanted to fuck her again. I didn’t though, instead, I gathered things for her bath. I rarely took baths, despite the fact that I had a huge tub. I didn’t have the typical things you’d find with a soaking tub, like bath salts and bubbles, but I did have a loofa and some shower gel.

  Once the water was near the top, I told her to get in.

  She looked behind her at her tail.

  I chuckled. “I guess that doesn’t get wet. Do you remove it when you bathe? I saw a blush and a slight nod. “Turn,” I commanded in a gentle voice. She turned away from me. “Hands on the tub.” She bent forward and held onto the cool white porcelain.

  I gently pulled on the plug until it came from her ass. Her hole gaped for a moment, then closed up. I considered putting my finger in, hell, who am I kidding, I considered fucking her ass right then, but I didn’t want to take advantage of her. Despite what she’d been through in my playroom, the intense flogging, she now seemed vulnerable.

  She’d turned around and was looking at me expectantly, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Again, her cheeks were pink and her eyes were locked on the tail.

  I wasn’t sure what to do with it, so I handed it to her.

  She took it from me and smiled once again. Originally, I’d thought of Raven as uncomplicated. She was a submissive who liked to serve, who liked to play as a pet. What was there to get? But the longer I was with her, the more I realized that there was so much more beneath the surface, and what I found even more interesting was that I wanted to learn it.

  I was in no rush. I had time to enjoy her, and one of the things I planned to enjoy was her bath. “Ready now?” I asked, looking from her to the water again.


  She nodded and climbed in, holding the tail in her hand. It was balled up in her fist.

  I was going to offer to take it, but she let her hand rest on the rim of the tub, and it seemed fine.

  I’d never washed a person before. I didn’t have kids, and I’d never done it with a submissive. Mostly because they’d never stayed long enough for this sort of thing, but in part, because this was an emotional, spiritual thing that I would have worried might create feelings between myself and a submissive. I wasn’t worried with Raven. She belonged to someone else and I’d seen how devoted she was to him.

  It wasn’t that difficult, and despite my inexperience, I washed her entire body. I surprised myself at how much I enjoyed washing her. Slowly, I ran the loofa over every inch of her skin. I spent a large amount of time on her breasts and when I asked her to spread her legs, she let them fall apart in the tub. It was so hot to have such control of her in an area not the dungeon. I could get used to this and I hoped to add it to our routine.

  When I’d finished, she got out of the tub and I handed her a towel.

  She dried herself and then stood still, as if waiting for instructions.

  She was so well trained. “Give me your hand,” I said calmly.

  She held out her hand to me.

  I took her tail. “Turn around.”

  She turned and bent over before I could even say a word. Her hands reached back and she held her ass cheeks apart so I could reinsert her tail. She let out a soft moan as I slid it slowly back into place. I wanted to pull it out and fuck her again right then and there, but she was clean, and I wanted to give her time to herself after our session. “I haven’t forgotten your transgression in my playroom,” I said, standing only an inch from her when she’d stood and turned to face me.